This Spring, This Moon, This Night
by Ekuk
Summary: Sesshoumaru is tired. His nerves ragged, he cannot continue. So he waits in this Spring for what will free him, if only for a while. And he remembers voice that awakened him, the face that captured him and the only body to ever truly touch his.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, this is a first effort here so it would be great if you guys could read it and leave some comment/criticisms. But remember, first time publishing anything anywhere...so...yeah._

_As for the story, Sesshoumaru is tired. He's stressed out, on edge and its begining to show. Though of course who'd dare tell him. He needs something and he's waiting to have it. And while he waits, he remembers where this need came from. How it changed him. _

_This chapters short, just trying to see how much it takes to fill the page! So, here it is. Oh and I guess I should say :_

_I DON'T OWN INUYASHA OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR ANYTHING, JUST WRITING FOR FUN, NOT FOR PROFIT!_

**_The Spring, The Moon, This Night_**

So long, it had been so long. His legs, finely sculpted, strong, perfect, still strained to remain still. He was tired. No one could see it. No one would dare suggest that such a thing could ever be. But this weariness spread through his body, fogged his mind. Just once, just this once and this need would no longer be.

Even as he said it, only to himself, he knew it was a lie. Knew that he would never be free of it. It happened so slowly. Began as the sliver of a distant memory. One he couldn't forget though he had tried. But no, even this was a lie. He could not forget because he would not. He treasured it. Kept it hidden, even from himself. The incredible Lord of the West, The Killing Perfection. He could not allow such a thing. All the same deep inside the heart that he denied, ignored, and despised , he could not be without it.

Tree limbs swayed and trembled as he flew past. As if they anticipated this as much as he did. It grew closer. The same one, always the same. Hidden away and so quiet. The leaves and branches of the trees and flowering shrubs surrounding it so dense that noise did not easily enter or escape. As his feet touched the ground, in the next breath his clothing followed. Pale skin, as perfect and as hard as the rare and beautiful marble that filled his home, warmed as he lowered himself into soothing water of the spring.

His body. Sometimes he barely knew it. In battle he knew and controled every muscle, every cell and the power that they held, but here, sitting alone… It shimmered in the water clearly seen by his demon eyes in the pale starlight. He was beautiful. He knew this. A large hand, elegant powerful, slid slowly over his body, muscles shifting, tensing and releasing as he moved over them. His cock just beginning to liven. He had bedded many in his years, but none had touched him. He could not remember what their hands, lips, sex, felt like. What they felt like against his. But no, that lie again. Someone had touched him. Had changed what he knew about himself, about everything. His body, all of him was awake and alive for those few minutes. Then gone. Taken from him. Then miraculously re-given. But it was a gift taken away, one that he could open and relish only a few times within each year.

His eyes closed. Their amber color was warm , but all that looked into them said that they were cold, sharp, that they might just as well have been the silver that his hair was. They'd never said that about his father's eyes, or HIS.

Now he waited. This was part of it, the waiting. It might not happen this time. His lips parted, allowing a quiet, solemn sigh to escape. It betrayed him. Heavy with all that he'd carried for so long. The worry, the loneliness that he denied, the restlessness that he'd tried to rid himself of in battle after battle. It never ended, never lessened. That need only grew inside him. And now, finally he could free it. Let it wash over him. He could feel now. And remember.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, hello and I hope somebody is actually reading this! This is the first time that I have ever posting anything anywhere, so please help me out with some comments/criticism!_

_Well, in further chapters there will be some lemon-type thiings and they'll involve an adolescent Sesshoumaru. And there'll be many many (hopefully) Yaoi moments as well, so if you don't like, or it makes you uncomfortable don't read it please!_

_And I suppose I should say I DON'T OWN INUYASHA AT ALL IN ANY WAY. Ok, so here it is._

**_The Spring, The Moon, This Night_**

**_Chapter 2_**

He let himself get lost inside his memory. So clear, so real as though he had been transported back to it. It began in horror. An ambush carried out by a group of Panther demons who'd sworn to destroy his father. He'd been traveling alone, something his father had constantly warned him against, but in his stubbornness and his need to show his strength to his father he'd left without his normal escort.

They flew at him at once. Teeth, claws, spears and swords tore at him from every direction. It had happened so fast he had barely had time to react. His lightning fast reflexes hadn't quite developed yet. It was this battle that prompted their oddly rapid appearance. His blood drained as he finally got his bearings. His own powerful claws filled with his poison found target after target. He felt necks tear and arms and legs break in his hands. His sword and his claws tore though flesh and bone as he flew from demon to demon. He devoured them. No longer feeling his own wounds he saw only his enemies and would stop only when their bodies lay broken and bleeding at his feet.

When it was over this Sesshoumaru was cover with blood. Whether his or that of his enemies he couldn't say, but this victory, the first that he could truly call his and his alone coursed though his veins. But it had cost him. Only now could he feel his weakness. That he had lost a great deal of blood, was still bleeding. His limbs torn and broken. He was dying. He would die if he could not find help. He was too wounded to be able to heal the way he normally, as a demon, could. He would be dead long before such horrible cuts and tears could heal.

He had wandered too far from the lands and villages of his subjects. His father was far away. Again. His mother had long since gone to rule the vast mountain lands of her father. He wondered if she would help him even if she knew of his nearing death. This thought settled and his energy slipped away. He was alone. Never had he faced death. And now it seemed he would meet it with no one there to…

A thought suddenly entered his skittering mind. Father, he had been here, to this place. There was a castle. A woman. Then he remembered.

The bastard.

The half-human disgrace. It was near this place. What should he do? To allow himself to be seen this way. To depend upon that…that thing. He had to act. Soon the smell of blood and dead flesh would bring carrion demons. The thought of being torn and eaten alive moved his feet away. Moved them toward that place.

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Mother always warned him about straying too far into the forest alone. But he ignored it. He wanted to play. To be by himself. He hated being stared at, being talked about. "Filthy hanyo", "disgrace", "such a shame that our beautiful princess has been ruined by that demon and his seed". He'd heard it all his life. So much it hardly hurt anymore. But he knew that it hurt her. She cried when she thought that he was asleep. She'd hold him, softly rocking him back and forth, and cry over him. He wanted so much to end that sadness but he didn't know how.

So he did what he could. Learned all that stuff about manners and how to behave himself at court (when he was allowed there). Kept himself clean and neat, learned whatever lessons he was supposed to. He did it all so she'd be proud of him. So that even when people said that stuff she'd know that they were lying, that he wasn't worthless. And sometimes when he was especially good or had done very well she'd really smile. So much her eyes would smile and sparkle at him. He'd know he'd made her really happy, if only for a little while.

But he promised himself, one day he wouldn't have to do any of it any more. He'd never wear fancy clothes, not even shoes if didn't want to. He'd wander all around and nobody would make him feel bad. Nobody would make him cry or be ashamed of himself, of being a hanyo ever again. He was strong. He was as smart as any other child at court, smarter even. He had to be. He was a good boy and no had the right to make him feel bad. No one.

But for now, a few hours in the deep woods by himself would have to do. Mother was asleep and everyone else was busy, so he was free to do what he pleased for a while. He liked looking around him as he sped into the woods, watching the trees get bigger and darker and closer together, but soon he began to smell something. It was strange. Familiar. Then he recognized it.

Father.

His father smelled like this. Well, kind of. It was like his father, a lot like him, but not really. He was confused. Even more so when he realized that whatever it was also smelled like HIM. Then he remembered. Once, when his father was here he'd mentioned…Se-Sesshoumaru. His older brother. A full blooded demon, just like his father. That was what he smelled. But he realized that there was something else. Blood. A lot of it too! Maybe he was hurt. Maybe he needed help. Without another thought the tiny Inuyasha ran as quickly as he could to see this Sesshoumaru and help him if he could.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3, getting to the heart of the story, Sesshoumaru is hurt, Inuyasha is his only hope...bad for Sesshoumaru, great for us! Will Inuyasha help? Will Sesshoumaru let him?_

_Yeah...and I don't own Inuyasha or the characters, just havin' a bit of fun!_

**_The Spring, The Moon, This Night_**

**_Chapter 3_**

He was barely conscious now. Could hardly see. But even still he could hear a ridiculous racket coming from the wood a few feet from where he lay. And he could smell it. The hanyo. So familiar. So much of his father. And disturbingly so much of himself he could smell, and something else. Something foreign. Weakness, he decided. The human side of it. He refused to say the ridiculous name his father spoke of.

Inuyasha.

If he could manage it he'd shake his head in disgust, as it was a smirk was all he could muster. The rustling became louder and it emerged. So small. Still only a pup. He listened as it walked over to him. "Se-ssSeshoumaru? Are you Sesshoumaru?" said the tiny all-too-familiar smelling thing. He couldn't see him very well, but he knew this was him. He refused to address him. He couldn't ask for help. What the hell was he supposed to do?

"Don't worry, I'm real fast, I'll go and get help!" and he was off through the woods again. Surprisingly fast for such a small child. Even demons that age didn't move so quickly. He caught himself. "Filthy hanyo" he muttered. But still he carried his blood and that of his father, the least he could do is be quick on his feet. He did not want to admit it, but the sight of the child running towards his home caused him to relax himself. He knew that it would not take long for him to reach his home. And that once there he would not fail to bring help to him.

This Sesshoumaru. Helped, by a filthy hanyo and his disgrace of a mother. The very thought caused what blood he had left in his body to heat, his face grew hot. He knew that his anger and shame were clearly displayed there. Even at this tender age, barely adolescent, he did not show his emotions. Ever. This could not be, he would not allow it. But he couldn't get up and leave. He could barely move. Shame, anger, frustration and loneliness. They all fell on him, all at once. "Oh, gods please…please… don't let me…I can't. I won't" But he would. He felt his eyes begin to sting. His sight becoming blurrier than it had been. Thankfully, before it could happen, just as the sound of many men hurrying through the woods came to him, he felt his consciousness slip away.

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It scared him. When he got back and saw him his eyes were closed. And his face was all grey and blue. He's dead, he thought. He'd let his brother die. He was too slow. If he was a real demon he'd have been faster. What would his father say? Would he be mad? Would he hate him?

He barely knew his father.

When father was here he spent all of his time with his mother, although he liked that 'cause it meant that all the servants would be busy attending HIM and he could run about and do what he liked for a long time. He just had to remember to stay clean for when he'd have to go in to him.

He was so big. And wide! His hair was long and heavy and silver. Almost like his. He wore armor and huge swords. He was a warrior, a great lord. He was scary, but he smiled at him and pat his head and asked if he had behaved himself. He always said yes even if he'd gotten in trouble that day. But he didn't lie very well and he always turned red when he did. But father didn't hit him or yell. But he'd always say in a stern solemn voice, "Inuyasha, you are the son of demon lord and a beautiful human princess, you must always remember this and behave accordingly." Then his voice would soften, and he'd pull the tiny boy closer to him and say, "You must take care of your mother when I am not here, Inuyasha, try to make her happy. She deserves happiness. And I cannot…"

He'd never finish. And when Inuyasha looked up at him he'd be staring down at him. His eyes were gold, just like his. But just then they'd always be sad. They'd be just like his mother's when she cried over him when she thought that he was asleep. Did this big demon lord love him? Just like his mother did. He could hardly wrap his head around it. But it felt good, even though he didn't like it that it made his father sad. One day he'd make them both really proud and really happy. They'd never have to look at him with those sad eyes ever again. He hated sad eyes.

But now what would happen. He cried when he saw him as he came to the place he'd left his brother. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't make his father sad. He couldn't. But he heard him take a breath, and then another. He was breathing! He was still hurt real bad, he didn't heal yet, but he was alive. The men of the castle put a pallet on the ground beside him and gingerly eased him onto it. As though they were afraid to touch him. Inuyasha knew that some of the men hated him for being half-demon. He couldn't imagine how they felt about his brother. But he knew that they would do whatever his mother asked. They loved her, no matter whatever else they felt they would never disobey her.

He ran ahead of them to tell his mother and the other servants that they would be there soon. As he ran he began to remember something. It had happened when he was very little. He'd climbed into a big big tree in the deep part of the forest. He'd stolen something from the kitchen and was afraid of getting his ears pinched by the cook again. Then that smell came to him. His father's smell. And something else, like it, but not exactly. He looked in the direction of a hill just outside the village. He was there. His father. And someone that looked a lot like him only smaller, a child or maybe a little older.

"I will not." Said the smaller one. His eyes narrowed when his said it, his feet were spread wide apart, as though bracing himself against something.

"It is your duty as my eldest son and heir to see all of your younger siblings, Sesshoumaru. Would you refuse such a responsibility? Would you allow these feelings to sway you from what is the honor and the right of the son of the Lord of the Western Lands?"

"A duty that is not mine, a right which I decline and an honor", here he laughed "which I deny. He is hanyo, only half demon. I will not soil my name by acknowledging his. I will not do this, father."

"So, you would defy me?" his father said, his eyes hardening, narrowing, looking so much like the smaller one's. "Deny your duty and defy your father, and still you want my lands, my title and my sword." At this the smaller one gasped, just slightly.

"I have never done so, but, in this I cannot obey you, father". Then, his chin lowering only a very little he said, "A filthy hanyo will never be counted as my brother. I will not have him. How can I accept as mine something so foreign, so different?" He turned then, and looking back, "I am sorry father, I will nott"

His father was facing the other way and didn't watch the other leave. After a long time he looked up and in his direction! No way, he couldn't see him! But he could not look away. His father, he seemed so sad, and worried.

So, they were talking about him. That boy was his brother, his older brother. And he called him "filthy hanyo". He sighed. He was used to it, even now. It hurt, but he wasn't worried about himself. He'd never seen his father look like that before. So tired and sad. He'd hurried down the tree to greet him when he got to his house. He'd show him the things he'd done since he'd been gone, and the servants would have to admit that other than stealing the cake that morning (he'd almost forgotten!) he'd been extra good. He knew it would make him smile. And he didn't need any brother to accept him. Not at all, not one bit!

He blinked as the memory played out in his mind. So, this demon that he'd saved, his own brother thought that he was a filthy hanyo. He hadn't expected it to, but this hurt him. His own brother would not see him. Not see that he wasn't stupid, or ugly, or bad. All he'd see is a "half-breed", a disgrace. Inuyasha felt his anger growing, "if he wouldn't accept him then he would not accept this "brother" either. But, he would not allow his father to be sad about him. He would help make sure he lived. That he was alright.

And that he got the hell out of his house. Soon.

Hmmm, already a temper on that boy! What's gonna happen, well...at this point even I'm not sure! We'll see!


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hi everybody, I'm back with the next chapter. Enter Izayoi, Inuyasha's mother. She never thought that she'd have to deal with him but here he is in all glory…her step-son! How will she react? How will he? Well…here it is. Oh and:**_

_**I don't own Inuyasha or any of the Characters at all, just a bit of fun and no profit! Please read and review!**_

The Spring, The Moon, This Night

_**Chapt 4**_

She'd ordered everything done. Her own rooms had been prepared for him, her servants had been sent away from that section of the castle. Only her personal servant, her son and she would be there. She knew that this is what he would want. That this was the only way that he would accept anything from her. Even what would save his life.

She stood, waiting now, for something that she would never have dreamed would be. The eldest son of her Lord. So proud and so distant. Filled with so much distrust and hatred. Hatred she'd never believed that she'd have to face. To deal with. But here it was.

Lord Sesshoumaru.

She didn't dare think of him as her "step-son". She sighed as she stared out of her window. Moonlight filled the private garden that she'd had made for herself and her Lord. She wanted no interruptions, no distraction, nothing to interfere with the tiny sliver of time that she had to spend with him. Would he enjoy it, she wondered. Did Lord Sesshoumaru do such things as walk in gardens in the moonlight, or watch the sky as it changed when the sun set or rose? Her own little one did. He took such delight those things, and many others. So much like his father. How much is HE like his father, she wondered. Her thoughts were broken by a flurry of breathing and fuss coming from the doorway. "Mistress, everything is prepared, your room has been changed, and your clothes" and this she said with a deep and distressed groan, "your beautiful white things have been washed and…shredded into bandages. But Mistress…" here she paused, knowing what the answer to her request would be but still hoping it would not be, "…Mistress, please. Let me attend to him. Our Princess should not be forced to do such menial tasks…especially not for one such as him!" Then she bowed having some idea what was about to come.

"You will not speak of the son of my Lord, his eldest son in this way!" She said firmly. "I will see to him myself, and I will not have any interference with my wishes". Then her face softened, and she went to the old woman and took her hands. "Would you do any less for him? The son of the one that you cherished?" The old woman looked down at the beautiful hands now pressing earnestly against hers. She knew full well what her Mistress was feeling. And wanted to help her in any way that she could. So much had been taken away from this dear young woman, whose great beauty was only rivaled by the beauty that she held inside. She couldn't blame the great demon Lord for falling in love with her. But she could despise the sorrow that his love had brought to her life.

She smiled, gently covering those hands with hers. Her, Izayoi. Her pretty little Miss, she looked so fragile, so delicate but was the strongest person that she'd ever known. "Don't worry, Mistress, I'll see that everything that you wish is done, and done well." And with one last glance she left her alone in the room.

"MOTHER! MOTHERRR!" Shouted the little one as he tore into the room. "We got him and he'll be here in just a few minutes. I thought he was… but he's okay, but he's still bleeding real bad though!" He finished and sat down to rest, finally. He looked around the room and saw how all of the things had been removed or changed around, then he guessed why. He still didn't like the idea of this Sesshoumaru being in his house. Big jerk.

Reaching down to lightly kiss his forehead and stroke his ears his mother said, "Thank you for your help, Inuyasha. You were good and very brave to go to your brother. You've made me very happy, and very proud as your father would be, as he will be." But the stubborn little hanyo frowned and said very quickly, "He is NOT my brother. He doesn't want to be, and I don't want him to be either." Then he lowered his eyes and said quietly, "He called me a dirty hanyo mother. Before, when father asked him to come and see me. It made him sad. And if he doesn't want me I don't want him. I'll help him get better, and I'll do it 'cause you asked and I know father would want it, but NOT for him." And he looked up at her, to see what she would say. "Alright Inuyasha, I understand, and I'm still proud of you" she said softly stroking his cheek. "You can go to the kitchen and eat your dinner there tonight" she said knowing that this was one of his favorite things to do since he could be as messy as he liked and eat whatever he wanted. "But you must return here afterwards." He smiled and nodded turning to race through the halls to the kitchen.

Oh, my. She knew her little one well enough to know what he really felt. His little ears were bent forward, his voice quiet and thoughtful. He did want his brother. He wanted what he'd seen so many times with other children, with other families. And he had been, was still very hurt by what Lord Sesshoumaru had said. And in all honesty she wasn't pleased with it either. But she'd expect it. She'd just hoped, maybe foolishly, that her son would never know of it, much less actually hear it from his brother.

Just then she heard the sound of heavy feet and strained loud voices coming from the next room.

"Put him down before he wakes, he'll kill us all if wakes while we're here!",

"I will if you move over to the bed, we can't just drop 'em on the damned floor!"

"If it were up to me I'd drop him in the damned lake and leave him there!",

"You'll do what you're damn well told or you'll be out of this place and on the road looking for work and a roof over your head!" yelled the head caretaker as they finally, and carefully lay the adolescent Inu-youkai on the waiting bed. Izayoi, entered the room then, and acknowledged them solemnly. "Thank you for your work and effort on my behalf, I greatly appreciate the execution of this task." And smiled warmly at the caretaker dismissing them. Their heads bowed in respect and some bit of shame they quietly left the room, leaving her alone with the young, unconscious demon Lord.

She'd of course seen him before. Not close, but had at least seen him. Even at this young age he was intimidating. Forbidding. But now, he seemed so young. He was obviously horribly injured, his beautiful face, yes it was so much like his father's, was bruised and cut. There were tears and slashes all over his body. She had not expected to feel this. She'd steadied herself to do what she knew that she should do, what she had to do. But she never expected this.

"Mistress, I got the bandages and medicines, and I'll bring in the hot water and cleaning things. And the clothes, I cut 'em down and made 'em just like you said." She slowly moved closer to the bed just behind where her Mistress stood. Oh! He was… well, he was…just like his father. He looked just like him. A smaller version, but still. And tall. Even laying down she could tell. He obviously wasn't at his best like this, but still… "I uh…" she said shaking her head to get back to the matters at hand, "I'll come back with the rest of the things, and I'll send the little one up once he's finished his dinner and has rested a bit." She turned to leave, but stole one last glance at the young Lord, "So much like him he is, and so much like Inuyasha…" then she quickly left the room.

Yes. He was. So much like his father, and so much like her little boy. She could see them both so clearly in Sesshoumaru. So much so that she couldn't help the care and concern she felt growing in her heart for the young youkai. She wondered if he carried the same cares that his father did. The same loneliness and sadness. She touched his face where it was bruised and heard a low groan escape his throat. Then kneeling next to him she began to gently, slowly remove his clothing trying not to cause him pain. She would save him. She would not let him die.

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Pain. He was in pain. More pain that he had ever felt in his life. What was wrong? Why? Then he remembered, the Panther demon tribe. The attack. And then… and then the hanyo crashing through the woods like a … but then nothing. He opened his eyes. A room he didn't know. Sounds and smells he didn't recognize. Where was he? Though it caused him more pain he looked down at his body. These weren't his clothes. They were, they were his father's, but they'd been made smaller. Who would do this? Then he realized who it was. Where he was. And he tried to get up. To remove himself from this place. He would not be here, would not acknowledge her. Never. Then the smell came to him. He must be badly hurt, he did not notice it until now. He was here. Then again, moving his head slowly to the side he saw him, but kept his eyes almost closed so that he could study him.

He could see better now, and could see the kimono he wore. Fitting for the son of his father at least, he thought. And his hair, not quite like theirs. Not silver but a bright silver-white. Then he looked more closely. He was strong, even as he simply sat cross-legged beside the bed he could tell. His muscles weren't stretched long and taut as his were. The hanyo's muscles were rounded. Powerful, like his father's. Like _their_… And his eyes. They were just like his father's. Just like his own. Damn. Damn.

"So, are you done looking at me now?" asked the small hanyo as he sat looking very deliberately away from his older brother. He tried to sound bored and uninterested but he was obviously angry, and very agitated. And Sesshoumaru couldn't resist adding to his discomfort. "You hold no interest for me little _half-demon _wretch." He sneered. Then watched as the tiny hanyo's face grew red and angrier and his ears (those ridiculous ears) flatted, twitching wildly against his head. Grinding his teeth the little thing stood and walked over to the door muttering under his breath trying not to show just how angry he was. Inuyasha rarely cursed even to himself and never out loud but he couldn't help himself this time, and before he left the room to tell his mother that his brother (ugh) was awake he growled "You _ASS_!" under his breath then stalked angrily through the door.

And despite his pain Sesshoumaru, this Sesshoumaru laughed. Ah yes. If he had the misfortune to have to lay eyes on that hanyo again he would enjoy eliciting that reaction from him. Every time!

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He must have been asleep, or unconscious again. He opened his eyes. Still here. He was still here, but the boy was gone now. He relaxed and tried to take a deep breath. Still so much pain. And he could smell his own blood. Not as much as before, when he was outside by himself in the wood, but he was still bleeding. Badly. But now there was another smell. Like, it was like some strange flower, warmed by the sun. And the sea. Strange. What would…then he realized.

Her.

She was here, in the room with him. His heart began to pound, he could barely hear over it. What would she do? Had she…had she touched him? Had she…his mind raced through all that must have happened while he slept. The bandages fastened over his wounds. His clothes, his clothes had been changed again. She…she had…she had touched him. Bathed him and bound his wounds. She had _touched_ him. If he had been able to he would have killed her. Would have drawn his claws though the flesh of her neck. Torn at her until she…he turned and his eyes finally found her.

How could she just stand there? Even a pathetic weak human had to know how angry he was. Was she fool enough to stay in the room with an angry Inu-youkai? Did she not have the sense to leave him? But he stared as she stood by the window. Looking out of it. Did she not care that he was angry? Even in this state he could still manage to…

Then she turned and walked over to him. Slowly, deliberately. Then kneeling beside him she bowed and said quietly. "I ask that you forgive me, Lord Sesshoumaru. I could not allow you to remain injured without doing all that I could to help you. These are my own rooms. No one other than my son and my personal servant have been here. And no one will unless you wish it. It was I who attended you, I would not allow anyone else to do so. I knew that you would not approve." After saying this she moved over him and placed her hand on his forehead. She touched him while he was awake. She dared touch him. He scarcely know what to do! This filthy human wench has…but despite his obvious anger and disgust she continued to touch him! Her hand moved over his face, then down his body checking each of his wounds, and them finally she straightened his clothes and pulled a blanket over him! How dare she treat him like that bastard she….he would kill her! As soon as he could move without tearing himself to shreds he would slay her!

But again she ignored his anger and stood slowly. She crossed the room lowering the lights. Then she turned and bowed again. "Goodnight, Lord Sesshoumaru, I will come later to make sure that you are well." She said this and walked to the door, but before she left she turned back to him, "I am sorry that I so angered you in my presumption, I am trying my best. If you wish you may slay if you feel better tomorrow." then she turned and left the room quietly sliding the door closed.

She. Did she just? Did she just make a joke? Joking? This human bitch is joking with him??? He was beyond angry! But... he couldn't help remembering her face when she said it. How her mouth turned up with only the slightest hint of a smile. How her eyes were sparkling at him.

Damn her. Damn her and her hanyo bastard!

In spite of himself he felt his eyelids grows irresistibly heavy. He could not keep them open. "Slay me tomorrow" she'd said. He'd show her. He'd…but, he couldn't finish his thought. In spite of his anger, in spite of her presence he felt safe. He felt his muscles release themselves. He felt himself relax and he drifted off into the first peaceful dreamless sleep he'd had in a long long while.

Whoa! Well being the mother of that boy she'd have to have a sense of humor! What'll happen next? Will Sesshie kill her? Will Inuyasha kill him? Will they all live happily ever after? We shall see…


	5. Chapter 5

_**This Spring, This Moon, This Night**_

_Chapter 5_

_Here is Sesshoumaru, wounded and at the mercy of his father's lover and her half-breed son. How does he react? What are his true feelings about them? Does he even know??_

_And here's where I say, __**I don't own any part of "Inuyasha or the characters of the show! **__Just letting my mind wander a bit._

He was tired. The pain had lessened over the days he'd lain in that bed. He no longer bled. But there was still pain. He was healing, but slowly. He slept and waited for the time when he could stand and walk away from this place. He'd tried but had only managed to tear open his wounds again waking to find himself with his wounds re-bound and clothing changed.

She'd touched him again.

He hated this. Hated her, hated his "brother". And hated that his life now depended on the both of them. _He'd_been the one to find him after he'd tried to leave. Sesshoumaru had almost laughed again, this time at his expression of panic and horror when he saw the blood, when he ran for her. And then there was hers when she saw him. Vermin. Had he not known better he would say that they were both genuinely concerned for him, that they actually cared about him, and not just what his father would say if he found him there dead.

Where was his father? He sighed and braced himself as another wave of pain rolled through his body. There were less of them now. Still…still he tired of them. Of the weakness he felt. And not just his body which sometimes shook with it, but his mind. It would empty. He would no longer feel anger, rage. He'd wonder about the hanyo that sat next to him. Did he not go out? Did hate staying in this room alone with him? Why did he do it? And then worse he would wonder if he knew father, had he ever spoken to him? Had he taught him to fly though the air, to use a sword? Had he felt his arm around him or the weight of his wide, heavy hand stroking his hair? Or had he looked into his eyes knowing that his own were exactly like them?

But worse still were the times she was there. Though he refused to speak at all she continued to talk to him. Ignored his anger. Bathed him, dressed him, fed him as though he were that damned bastard of hers. She'd smile down at him while she did this. Not false, not cloying. A quiet smile that said that she knew what he thought, what he felt and that it did not matter. That she would still care for him.

Then there were the times when he would wake and find her there standing at that window. There must have been flowers just outside because he could see their color on her neck, along the curve of her jaw. It made him all the more aware of how much she smelled like them. How much she enjoyed the sun shining on her face, glittering in her eyes. Or when she stood there and her black hair would glow almost blue in the moonlight. Oh gods he was losing his mind. Sometimes, sometimes he….he wanted her there. Felt, comfortable, or safe, or something when she was there. And worse still, he was better even when _he_ was there. The head-strong, little bastard. He didn't know why. He didn't want to know.

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"**Wha…what the hell? Whatthehelldoyouthinkyou'redoing**!!?"

He'd opened his eyes and saw two eyes, amber, staring straight into his and felt a tiny nose pressed against his own.

"Move away from me or I will tear your head off of your pathetic body, hanyo" he growled through clenched teeth and bared fangs.

"Humph, you don't have the strength to get up and run after me, so I don't _have_ to do anything." taunted his little brother moving only a few inches away from him. "How long have you had those? Those stripes on your face?" He asked, "And where did that moon thing on your head come from? Father doesn't have one, does your mother have one?" then went on, "you have them anywhere else? The stripes I mean, I bet you do. Hey just where is your mother anyway, nobody ever talks about her, you think she's worried about you? Maybe we could get a message to her or something."

"_Get the fu…"_Lord Sesshoumaru growled as he swiped his claws near the damned Inuyasha's face. But not only could he not reach him a bolt of pain shot through his arm as he tried. He half groaned, half growled as the pup got up to run for his mother again, "Stay where you are hanyo. I do not need her. You will not bring her here." He settled back onto the bed and tried to breath through the pain.

"Okay, I didn't want to bring her here anyway." breathed the stubborn Inuyasha turning his head away again. "She spends too much time here. I don't know why." Then turning to look at his brother he said a bit louder, "Its obvious that you hate her. It would be better if we sent you back to your own house, to your own mother."

His own mother. He hated even thinking about her now. What would she say if she saw him? If she knew? She might not let him die, but she would never let him forget how close he came to being slain by his enemies. Would she care for him? Would she feel sympathy? Stay with him? He didn't need to ask. He knew exactly what would happen. She would glance at him with her cold eyes. She would tell him that it was good that he'd won his first battle, but with that sarcastic edge that her voice always carried. She would order servants (not her own) to care for his wounds. And he would not see her again until he could go before her himself. And he would not have questioned it. Not her coldness, not her disapproval, not her leaving him to his own comfort and company. Leaving him to heal alone. It is what he would expect from her. And he would rather bleed alone in the wilderness than have her do it.

Inuyasha watched his brother's face after he said he should go to his own house. He kind of flinched, or grimaced. Maybe he didn't like his house. Maybe his mother wasn't like his. After all what if Sesshoumaru's mother was just like Sesshoumaru? All cold and mean. It wouldn't be good to be sick around her. And his mother had said that his father was away in the East. So, maybe if he went home there wouldn't be anybody who would be nice to him like his own mother was. He sure hadn't been nice to him, but who could blame him, he thought stubbornly. He calls him names, insults him and then he's supposed to be nice to him? No way. But he looked at his brother again. He was laying back now, pretending to be alright, but Inuyasha could tell that he still felt a lot of pain. And maybe something else that was even worse. He got up and walked towards the door, then looking back said, "Well, since you're here and all I may as well make sure you're okay. I'll go get mother, she said to get her when you woke up anyway." And with that walked through the door and closed it quietly behind him.

He barely noticed the boy leaving the room. This was bad. There were so many feelings, all running over each other. All bad. Where was his father? What would his mother say if she found out? What would the entire household say? To them he was the cold and perfect Sesshoumaru, his father's heir. The "Killing Perfection", he'd heard one of his father's men call him. What would they call him if they saw him like this? Not only injured to the point of almost dying, but being nursed by his father's human concubine and her son? Feelings that he had always been able to bury were plaguing him now. The sadness of having only himself to depend on, the loneliness he felt when he thought of his father being away all of the time and his mother… Having to be hard and cold all of the time, when he didn't feel that way all of the time. He wanted… he wanted something. He needed something. But he for the life of him could not say what it was.

She was careful to be quiet when entering the room. "He seems kinda sad mother." Her little one had said when he'd found her. Such a kind heart he had despite his bad temper. What is the matter, she wondered. Perhaps he misses having his father near him at such a time. She put the bundle she'd carried down and walked over to him. "I've cleaned and sewn your clothes, Lord Sesshoumaru", she said quietly. "When you are well enough to leave here they will be here for you." She looked down at him, then kneeling beside him she brushed the heavy silver hair away from his eyes, arranging it neatly around his face. Then she rested her hand lightly on his forehead.

His heart pounded in his ears. He hadn't even heard her come in, hadn't heard what she'd said. And her hand on him easing through the strands of his hair, then resting on his head startled him. He couldn't help his first reaction to it.

He turned his head towards her.

Not wanting her hand to leave him.

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Hmmm…what'll happen next? What the hell is going on with Sesshoumaru?? We'll see…


	6. Chapter 6

_**The Springs, The Moon, This Night**_

_Chapt. 6_

_Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter, but here it is. Just a bit of background. Ever wonder why Sesshoumaru is the way he is?_

_And of course the prerequisite_: _**I don't own anything! Not the characters or the original stories nothing….nada…zip. Just like writing about them!**_

The evening winds were cold, yet she stood there. Voices in conflict. This wind carried them, as she had known it would. Just as she knew what would come with their eventual silence.

Her orders would be obeyed.

As they always were. As they had been since she'd returned to this mountain, and to her father's throne.

She watched as her hair drifted with the wind, its silver glinting in the rising moon. And knew that many eyes watched as she stood there alone.

She was beautiful. She knew this.

And she used this beauty. It was as cold as she. As hard and as merciless as she.

This was as it had to be. She stood between the relative peace of her lands and chaos. She was a powerful demon, but it was not only this that kept all who surrounded her at her feet. All of them, everyone that came to look upon her became enthralled. Her beauty captured them, then they witnessed the coldness of her eyes, the open threat that lay there as clear and as sharp as the thin, bitter air in those mountains. She was perfect.

No seam, no void, nowhere could anyone find a place of weakness in her. Her decisions were swift and final. Her judgment cold, detached. Her knowledge keen, considerable and masterfully applied in any situation put before her.

All of this in the form of the most delicate and exquisite creature ever formed. Yes. She was beautiful. The perfect ruler. There had never been anything in her existence at which she'd been found wanting.

But…this was not true. There were two things that had fallen from her hands. Or rather two that she had let drop from her hands. And tonight, despite the importance of the other tasks before her, those two things were what weighed on her mind.

The first was her love. One she had never expected, had never believed that she would allow herself. Through her childhood and her youth she had watched her father. Watched him worry about his people, the safety of their lands, their prosperity. Then saw his anguish and his terrifying anger when his men were killed in battle. Alongside this she watched her mother. So cold, terrible and forbidding. She controlled those around her without lifting her voice or her sword. No matter the situation she remained as always, serene and calm. Perfect. This is how she would be. This was how to rule, how to wield power. And this was the path for which she prepared herself.

But then there was him. She had prepared herself for marriage. One that would bring her family powerful allies, more land, but she had not prepared herself for him.

He came to her one day. Before any official meeting had taken place. He stood before her, dressed in armor a smile slowly growing on his face. In his eyes. They were…incredible. So strong. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her life. He spoke. Announced his name, his title and his intention. He would not be told who would be his mate. He would come to her and see for himself whether he wanted her or not. And if so, he would hear from her, not a court official whether she had accepted him.

She should have sent him back to where he'd come from, should have called to have him taken out. Such disregard for tradition… for ritual… But she could not. She could not bear the thought that she would no longer be able to look at him. Listen to him. Feel him watch her. Even his scent made it impossible for her to consider refusal. So, trying to calm herself, trying to remain herself she'd said, "My father wishes it, my family wishes it and I will comply with it". And turned away. This is not what she had imagined, what she had planned for. For this first time she did not know how to handle someone. Did not know how to make him do as she wished. Worse, she did not know what she wished. Only that she could not see him go away from her.

She'd turned away, but in an instant he stood in front of her. Close enough to feel his warmth, so tempting against the frigid air that surrounded them on that mountain. She held herself away from him. It took all of her strength but she would not fall to this demon. She would have him, but as she wanted him, not at his will or command. But he did not move away. Instead he touched her. Ran one finger over the curve of jaw, then the tip of her chin. She did not know what to do. She wanted him, but feared what this wanting would bring her. Then he came closer to her, so close she could feel his breath against her lips. "You must tell me, my Lady." he said quietly. She could feel his voice, so deep that it vibrated inside her. Then noise, yelling, protests. The women of the court had found out where he was and came in to insist that he return to the formal meeting that had been waiting since he'd disappeared. And she ran, well, not so much ran as took her opportunity for escape. But, before she left she'd turned to him and said clearly. "I will. I will have you my Lord." Calm, she thought. I must be calm. I must not show him…. I cannot be overtaken.

But she had been. Once his she would not let him go. She had abandoned the halls of her clan, had left the lands of her father to be with him in his. The dreams she'd had fell away from her as she lived with him. As she loved him, fought beside him. Watched his might and power, felt them both in his bed, and there was more. His love. A thing that she treasured, like a rare and beautiful object, but one that she did not know how to use. She gave him what she could, more than she was willing to, but still there was an emptiness between them. One that she did not know how to fill and was not willing to try. Because she knew that one day it would end. This dream that she'd allowed herself would play itself out and she would take up her life again. That dream of perfection would be her future. It would come as surely as the next battle, the next war.

And in the end it did come. It came with the knowledge that she would have his son.

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With this child came her old dreams. Against his will, against his pleas she left him to go to her own lands, to the house of her father to give birth to their child. This was tradition. This was what was expected of her. And the night that she began her labor she invited the court women to witness the birth, as was their right. And she would have continued this, have let them stay had it not been for the rest of her labor. Pain she had never imagined. She could not ignore it, could not will it away. Then her body, she could feel her bones shifting, her blood flowing erratically. She had no control. And she was terrified.

And this terror spread throughout the household as she chased the women from her birthing chamber. Servants were hurled from the room broken and bleeding, no one dared go in to her. She was alone. Then she smelled it. His scent. He had come. Despite her instruction that he remain in his own castle, waiting for word of the birth to be sent, as tradition demanded.

He had come to her father's house. She was quiet, finally. Listening to see what he would do. She hoped and prayed that he would be taken to her father. That he would at least sit with him and wait. But she realized that his scent was getting stronger. He was coming closer. Not with her father, not in her private rooms, not with the court. He was there, she could hear his steps as he came towards her.

The door opened. He called to her, asked if she were alright, why on earth had she chased away her midwife? What was all of the commotion she was causing. "Hardly the behavior of the proud and beautiful Princess of this mountain." He'd said.

Bastard. Was he making a joke of this. She in all of this pain, her body going wild, doing things she could not control. And he was making jokes?? She would kill him. Tear his head from his body when she could get to him. But for then all she could do was reach for something, anything. A chair sailed at him. He ducked it. Another followed, he dodged that one. Then a table, a basin of water, several books, and assorted boxes flew across the room landing very near him. He just grinned and continued to chide her. Finally she couldn't throw things, she couldn't even stand anymore. Seeing this he quickly pulled the terrified midwife into the room, and he watched (keeping a safe distance away) as his son was born.

He was so tiny. His long already elegant limbs waving in the night air. They watched him fascinated by every movement, every sound that the child made. They watched as he carefully tested one chubby hand, (yes even the fabulous Lord Sesshoumaru was slightly chubby as a baby) opening and closing his fingers. Then the other. Then a foot. When he had finally satisfied himself with these he suddenly reached out and grabbed a tiny fist-full of his father's silver hair. He pulled with all of his surprising strength. His father laughed struggling to get the hair away from his new baby. His mother continued to watch him. He was strong. Determined. Even now serious in the testing of his strength. As she lay there with her mate and her son at her side, saw the world that awaited them. She saw the battles to be fought, treachery, deceit. She could see them betrayed, worn to old withered shadows of themselves. She could see them become her father. See them become every ruler that she had seen in her long life.

Then, there was her mother. She alone had survived those long years. Her mother was the touchstone, the hope that she had found. She would become this. If the world threatened them, then she would change it. She would drag it from its chaos and force it to become what she willed. This world would not destroy her son.

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Time moved forward, and she with it. She watched her son, her Sesshoumaru. His father doted on him as a tiny child, taught him the art of warfare, taught him to fight, to wield his growing strength. But she taught him as well. Taught him to be wary of those around him, to be ever watchful of deceit, of plotting and trickery.

With her he learned stand away from his people and his men. That he must be perfect, in every way. Cold, piercing, exacting. This is what she was with him, because this was what he had to become. She watched as his beautiful golden eyes, so like his father's, grew calculating and cold, as his beauty became magnificent and terrifying, like the glittering white mountain peaks of her home. She watched as he became like her. As he became one who could survive this world. No, not only survive it, but thrive. He would one day rule not only his father's Western lands, but her father's mountains as well. And she knew the strength that it would take to control them. And she would make sure that her son had that strength.

So tonight, as she listened to the court officials end their arguments she stared at the moon as it rode through the sky. The same moon that stood over her son.

Of course she knew where he was.

Of course she knew of his battle and his victory.

She knew of his injuries, of his pain and fear. She knew that the hanyo would sense him and come find him, that the human woman would care for his wounds and keep him safe.

She'd had the nest of Panther demons that were a part of the party that had attacked her son slaughtered, so that there were no demons in the area that could threaten him.

She stood apart and away from him so that he would become strong, so that he would come to depend on and trust in that strength. But there was no distance that could exist between them that would ever truly separate her from her son.

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He stood, at the highest point around him that he could find. And stared towards the lands that held both of his sons now. He resisted everything in him that wanted to go to them, to protect and comfort them. Whatever strength he had he wanted to give them. But this is what had to be. He knew. His time in this world was not long.

His sons had to find each other. Because soon all that they would have was each other.


	7. Chapter 7

_So here's Chapter 7, sorry it took so long but I was trying to make sure it turned out okay. Alrighty folks, this part kinda enters lemon country. And please be aware that it involves a sexual encounter between an adult an an adolescent, so if that upsets you then just skip this part please and thank you. _

_This chapter takes up where chapter 5 left off with Izayoi and Sesshoumaru, so here we go. And as always: **I own nothing! No characters no part of the series or manga, Nothin', this isn't for profit only a bit of fun.**_

**_The Spring, The Moon, This Night_**

**_Chapter 7_**

It startled her. He startled her. The warmth of his young beautiful face against her hand so suddenly. His eyes closed tightly, as though pain still cut through him. But…was it pain, pain from his wounds, or something else. Some pain that he'd never allowed himself to feel before, that, in this state of weakness he could no longer keep buried and forgotten?

She finally allowed herself what she'd wanted since he'd come there. She began to move her hand slowly over his face. Deliberately, with no pretense of checking for fever or wounds she moved her hands over him. It was there. The pain, the care, the loneliness and sorrow she'd seen, felt so often in her beloved Lord, and in her own child. To lift it, lessen it. She wanted to give him at least a few short minutes without it. She could see his father before her now, his own pain lessened for a while. He smiled then. He laughed. And he told her of his most precious memories. He told her of his eldest son.

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So clear he made them. The memories of the first time that he saw his son, his Sesshoumaru. How he'd been very serious from the moment he was born. The days he'd spent teaching him to use the little sword gifted to him by the crazy old swordsmith, Toutousai. The look of worry he'd carry on his tiny face, his golden eyes, so fixed and determined, until he'd mastered all his father had taught him. But, the thing that made her Lord the happiest, the thing that in all of his life made him proudest, was that he and he alone was the one who could make his son laugh.

When he ended the lesson, finally, over the annoyed protests of the diminutive Sesshoumaru he'd quickly pick him up. The mighty Lord watched as his son stared off into the distant world. He could hear what the child thought. "Someday father, I will be able to stand this tall on my own, and I will go into the world that I can only watch from your shoulder now. I will be as strong as you are." _Well_, he thought, _perhaps my son, but for now rest here with me_.

And he would stealthily bring his hand to the point just behind Sesshoumaru's ear, at the base of his jaw and move one finger slowly up and down there. At first he would frown, knowing his father had done this again. But then a smile would slowly grow, then his eyes would close and a little giggle would start in his chest. Finally with his father refusing to be still, he threw his head back and laughed. The sound of his laughter, the open innocent laughter of a child filled the garden. It was the most beautiful sound that her Lord had ever heard, one that he even now carried in his heart. The first laughter of her own little one, their little one, and the laughter of his Sesshoumaru, they seemed to sustain him.

And being with her in their garden, being able to speak about them with her kept these things real for her Lord. Whatever strength she had she gave to him. For a time, just a while, he did not need to be strong, did not need to be the Great Dog General. With these arms, the arms of a human woman, she would hold him. Hold him safely as he laughed the way that his sons did, open and freely, as he told her of his love for them, for his mate and for her, as he cried for the many sadness's that crowded his life. He could do this with her. And this was the thing that, other than her son, she was proudest of, held the greatest happiness for, in her life.

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And now she was here with his beloved son. His heart, like his father's, like her son's, held so much sadness and she wanted lift that pain, and loneliness from him. She let her fingers slide through the heavy silver of his hair, gently brushing her fingers over his brow. He frowned, his eyes closed so tightly. He moved closer to her. Her soft warm hands felt so… He didn't want them to leave him. He didn't want to think anymore. Didn't want to wonder at what he was feeling, at why he wanted this human to touch him. So soft, so warm…but there was more. It wasn't just…he'd had bed partners before, but bedding them had never felt like this. A convenient release, curiosity, the thrill of possessing the body of another, or his growing hunger for dominance, that is what it had been. He wanted none of these from this woman. Nevertheless, whatever this need was, it grew with every second that she was near him.

Without thinking, with no more hesitation he began searching blindly for more of her. Unraveling the layers of her kimono, more and more of her opened to him. He did not tear the cloth away from her. He often did this in the past, but he did not want to intimidate her. He probably couldn't if he tried.

And this, he realized, is what he wanted. The one strong enough to be with him without shrinking away. One who would not give him submission, but strength. One who could hold him.

Her skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, her scent grew stronger as more of her body was freed from the exquisite cloth around it. The gently curved lips of the young demon lord found her breasts. Sliding them slowly over the warm flesh he was fascinated by her. The firmness, their heat and softness, and how they would give when he gently sank the tips of his fingers into them. How her breath changed when he did it. It was as if he had never touched another before. So new, so incredible. He opened his hand and cupped her breast feeling the tiny nipple grow hard against the center of his palm. More. He needed more.

She watched as he tested his awakening senses, discovered her body as she lay next to him. Sensing his growing need she pulled him closer allowing the kimono to fall away from her. With her arm around him she remembered, and slowly brought her hand to his neck, just below his ear where his jaw began. She began to slowly, deliberately touch him there.

His breath caught. His eyes opened wide, "You…" he began, but could not speak anymore. A soft moan escaped him, a quiet almost silent and still sob. _Father… _his mind reeled. _Father… father! Where are you? Why are you not with me? _Then he heard her voice, strong and steady, but quiet through his tangled thoughts. "_Sesshoumaru_." she said. Only his name, only once but it calmed him. Eased him.

_Father, I know that this woman is yours, I know that I have no right…but I cannot stop this. I need this. I need her…_

His Mokomoko, that had always been with him had been still since he'd come there. She'd cleaned the blood that covered it, but still it hadn't moved. Until now. He felt the soft fur slide across his body then watched it wrap itself around her, touching her where his arms couldn't reach. He still wanted more. First the obi, then the Yukata that she'd dressed him in, fell from his body. To feel everything, her hands, her breasts the way the heat and silk of her thighs brush against him.

More. Still more.

Despite the pain that was still in his body he moved closer to her, used his body to stroke her. To touch more of her. She kept touching him there. That place where his father would touch. He remembered what he felt then in his fathers arms staring as far away as he could see. He was safe. His fathers arms were always warm and safe. There was no place like that in the world for him now. His father never held him like that now and his mother never had. But here now with this woman, a human woman it… it felt like he was in his fathers arms again. He was warm. He was safe. But this was more than that. This was new. As his body came awake and alive with every touch of her, every breath that he felt weave through his hair he learned what it was to be with another. To be touched, and to touch. To love …

She felt his heart pounding against her, heard his moans becoming louder. She stroked that place behind his ear and again, slid her fingers though the heavy silk of his hair. So strange, he was so much like them, her Lord and her son, but there were things about him that were his own. She kissed his brow and whispered his name as his breath came faster.

_Sesshoumaru…Sesshoumaru _

Just his name. How could she do this to him by just saying his name? His face against her, his arms around her, every time he heard her it tore though him. Her voice touched him as her arms did, her fingers. She touched every part of him and he could not get enough of it. He opened his mouth. Tasting her, moving his tongue over her skin. Slowly, carefully. He'd never cared that his fangs might hurt someone before, but now…he didn't want her to feel pain. He wanted…he wanted to give her what she gave to him. He knew where to touch females, he knew were to stroke them how to thrust inside of them to make them scream for him, but…this wasn't the same.

Then he realized. He couldn't. He wasn't able to give her what she gave him. Only his father could do that. He'd always thought of his father's leanings towards this woman as his fatal weakness, that he would never allow such weakness to fell him.

But here he was, in this same woman's arms. Her body against his, her hands caressing him, her lips… he looked up, to see her face. So beautiful, she... she really cared about him. She reached down touching his lips, then pressed her own against his. It was gentle at first, the warmth and softness of her lips, feeling her breath, he couldn't leave it. He pressed harder, used his tongue. Then she opened her mouth to him and he tasted more. Felt more. Took more.

He forgot about his pain, the wounds he had suffered. He moved until all of his body moved against hers. His Mokomoko moved across his naked body and hers, his hands moved over her. The gentle curve of her hips, round full behind, so much to feel, so much. Even the soft silk of her hair brushed his skin.

He had tried to ignore it, forget that it was there. He couldn't expect…he wanted it so much but his father, it would betray his father.

Her hand slid down his body. She touched him, moved her hand on him. His cock. A strangled groan escaped his throat. He took her hand raised it, slipped his tongue over her fingers her palm. He pressed against her. The heat there. So wet. Her heat warmed him. More than just his skin. It moved through him. His cock found its way, not inside he couldn't be inside. But still her thighs held him. Squeezed and stroked him. Sweat dripped down his back, over his chest, curved around his legs.

He said nothing, all he could hear was the sound of their flesh, their sweat the wetness that grew every second. Her breath in his ear, his mouth as he sucked whatever place his lips could find on her. He said nothing, but still begged for her. Pleaded for every shift of her hips, every breath that swelled her breasts. Blindly he wrapped his arms around her, buried his face against her. Her scent was different now, his scent was different now. He couldn't make out either separately. The smell of the two of them, it filled the room, made his head spin. He was lost now. He was lost and it was good.

Still he was beautiful, even in this state. His movements though frantic, desperate, arced and undulated like churning water. She held on, whispering his name, telling him how much his father loved him, how she cared for him. When his arms went around her, she held him tighter.

So hard now, his cock, it seemed to still swell and throb, so hot it seemed that he would burn her flesh, so wet that he would drown her. It was all of him now. All of him moved against her, all of him burned, wept, howled. His jaw ached now from grinding his teeth trying to stifle the noises fighting to escape his chest. It was useless, there was nothing that could stop it now. He only just realized that the growing moans that he heard were his own, that the hair that churned around him was silver and black, that all of his senses were overloaded and screaming.

Suddenly it was everything. All of the feelings he'd held, that had tormented him since he'd come there, pain, loneliness, want, need, sadness…so much…so much… but just as it pressed in on him, overwhelmed him, it swirled away from him. Those feelings faded. All he could feel were the arms that held him, the voice that washed over him, the senses newly awakened and overflowing. Everything…everything, God everything he needed…it crashed though him, screamed and tore through him.

His body tensed, drew down to his belly, to his heart, his lungs. It all stopped, everything stopped, then he flew apart. Unraveled. He didn't know if he screamed, cried or howled, if he still existed at all or changed into something else. Pain. Joy. Rapture. Death. It all tore though him, errupted through him. It left nothing. Nothing. Only those arms, that voice, the strange new combined scent that he knew would always be with him.

Never so tired, never so quiet, so full, so empty. Whether it was sleep or unconsciousness, he didn't care. Just let it have him. Let it take away the feeling that grew, one that he didn't want, would never acknowledge. Just feel those arms. Just sleep.

She held him as his slept, as he curled his body against hers. And listened as his breathing became regular, as he whispered, muttering so quietly that it seemed he did not want even himself to hear, "_Where are the arms that are mine and mine alone, who will give me what I need?"_

0

0

0

0

She situated Lord Sesshoumaru in his bed, straightened herself then rushed to her Inuyasha. She knew where he'd be. He always waited for her to put him to bed. No matter how late it got he refused, stubborn as ever, to go to bed unless she carried him there herself.

And there he was curled in front of her window, struggling to stay awake. Reaching down for him she held her little one close and carried him carefully, trying not to wake him.

"Mother," he said yawning sleepily, "were you with _him _again?"

"Yes, he's asleep now and he is fine, now it is time for _you_ to sleep as well."

"But,_ I'm_ not sick! And I waited all this time for you, can't you play with me just a _little_!?"

But before she could answer sternly, as she often had to when he was being insistent, he snuggled against her shoulder and closed his eyes. "Well, it seems that you decided that we will play tomorrow instead." She smiled down at him.

"Hmm…you smell nice mother", he said suddenly, "different than usual, but real real nice."

Sometimes she forgot about the senses that her little hanyo possessed. He could smell it then, the scent of herself and his brother. _You smell nice mother…real real nice._

What could this mean?

She didn't know why, but this tiny confession from her son lifted her heart. It seemed to point to a hope, a hope for his future, for the future of both he and his brother. Though she didn't understand why. It, however occurred to her that perhaps her Lord _did _understand. "_My beloved, I do hope that you understand this, and understand what it means for the both of them."_

_*_

_*_

_*_

_Okay, so that's it! Hoped you like it! And this is my first attempt at the lemon-type stuff so please review and help me fix it if it sux! Thanks a lot for reading. (-:_

_See ya next chapter!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello everybody. I'm really sorry about taking so long with this but a visiting nephew and a few other things slowed me down a bit. But here it is. And I've split this into two separate chapters as it was waaaay too long._

_A warning here, NO lemon-type stuff. But a very sad couple of chapters. We all know that Inu no Taisho dies, and in this story here is where it happens._

_And of course…._**I own nothing, I profit from nothing just havin' fun**_. _

_And please forgive the massive amounts of melodrama! Read and review Thanks!!_

_**This Spring, This Moon, This Night**_

Chapter 8

The next morning all that remained in that room were the clothes he had worn, the clothes that she had dressed him in. Nothing else that hinted at his presence. As if he'd never been there.

Again, like his father. She wondered if Sesshoumaru knew just how much alike were he and his father. And he and his brother.

She wondered what the two powerful, proud and stubborn men that Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru would undoubtedly become, would ever be able to give one another.

Shaking her head she cleared the room and went to inform the servants that they could move things now. Make them the way that they had been. Of course, things would never be the way that they had been before he came there.

All three of them, father and sons. So strange and so complicated these three. Where would time take them?

* * *

The next dawn found that room empty. And what happened there pushed as far away from his conscious mind as he could bury it. Whatever it was that he'd found had to be left there in that room. His future was conquest. Power. Domination. This Sesshoumaru would never allow such… weakness to control him. He couldn't. Couldn't.

His stride was strong, powerful though he barely made contact with the ground. He walked to his home. Taking the time to heal completely before he entered his house, before they saw him. The servants, his father's men, perhaps even his father. That face, the one with worry, fear, sorrow…his face then, in that room. It must never be seen. No living being would ever find those things in him again. He hated that the hanyo had, and the woman… she must never enter his mind again.

But…even as he walked, even now he could see, feel what they had done. How much he'd felt and how much it all now confused him. He, he had….liked what they'd done, but…he remembered feeling a void. An emptiness where he felt something belonged. Something very real. He needed it, and even with all that the woman (for he would never allow himself to speak her name) had given him, it wasn't enough. It pressed into his mind, like the blunt edge of a sword. Cold, hard, unmoving. Pain.

Good.

That pain was good. A reminder never to seek this again. Never to want it, to need it again. Even if he allowed it, even if he tried, he would still have that void. And it would leave him feeling, emptiness.

Conquest. Domination. Power. These were his future, these were what would fill his life. What would settle his mind. His heart… it was not needed. This Sesshoumaru did not need it.

* * *

And as time passed, he did not seek. Did not acknowledge. Only a faint cold ache. There was only this to remind him. But he had killed, had maimed, had won battles, seen war and conquest. He had felt them in his hands. Felt them fill his mind and his soul. The rotting bodies of his enemies, their blood soaking the earth, their cries filling the air, these are what sustained him. Drove him. Soon he saw nothing but the road that lay before him. No plague of memories. No longing turned his mind from that path. He no longer needed the shoulder of his great and terrible father to see all that lay in front of him. He could see all that was there with his own eyes, stand with his own legs, fight with his own sword.

Still he hungered for more. More power.

The swords. His father's swords. He could feel the power that emanated from them, power his father so easily commanded. One day he would have them. He would carry them just as his father does. And then he will wield and control their power. He will become as powerful, no…he will become _more _powerful than his father.

To defeat him. To best him. His heart beat with the dream of that day. When his father stood across scorched and ruined earth and acknowledged this Sesshoumaru's victory over him. He had lived for that day.

But now.

Now he would never see that day. It had lay in front of him, as sure as the next sun-rise, as real as the power that pulsed and grew within his maturing body. And it was lost, _stolen_. How. How could this thing be?

How could he allow it?

How could he let them?

* * *

First the battle with the wretch of a ruined dragon demon. Wretch and ruin he was, but he was also old, and he was powerful, filled with blind rage. Ryukotsusei, fought with the Great Dog General, with Inu No Taisho, with his father. Endless. The battle went on regardless of time. Regardless of fatigue. Regardless of the blood that soaked the mountain where they fought.

He had been forbidden to go. The warriors with his father all slaughtered. Only he remained. His father. He could smell his blood over the miles. Hear his roar over everything else around him. All he could do was stand there. Stand and listen, and wait. Finally, finally all was silent. The dragon silenced. His father breathing. Barely.

He flew to the mountain and saw him. The dragon frozen, not dead, frozen, sealed to the mountain. Power still radiating from it, promising more death, more destruction. His eyes narrowed as he studied it. Committing every claw, ever scale every torn piece of flesh to his memory.

Good.

His father's claw was embedded in this thing's body. A sign for all to see. His father could not kill this monster. He would do what his father could not. This thing would die at _his_ hand.

But.

The smell of his father's blood. Strange. It was strange. Different somehow. There was so much. He didn't allow himself to think further about what it meant. It could not be so.

Then another smell. So miniscule that lesser would have missed it. Myoga. The demon flea, his father's useless vassal. This froze him in place. Froze his blood. The flea invariably stayed away from even the slightest danger. This battlefield should not have seen him. That he would brave it signaled an even worse disaster. What would bring him to this place of death?

Myoga…the _woman_. He often spent time with the woman and the bastard. And he would not come here unless there was great need. He would not come for his father if there was any other choice. No more thought. He flew to him. He knew where he would be.

He stood, the two tales of white fur whipping furiously behind him. The waves of the sea crashing. So much noise. It seemed impossible how still he was. His silver hair swirled behind him, and blood poured down his arm, it's bright red staining the new fallen snow and soaking the ground. There were many more injuries too. No one save his son would be able to see how near death he was. Standing. Waiting. For what?

* * *

_Now, sitting quietly, Sesshoumaru remembered this time. What they said to each other. He remembered his rage when he thought of what his father was about to do. To sacrifice himself in this way was madness. For…them. For them he would die. Resting there in the moonless night air soothed by the heat of the water he allowed himself to remember that day. He remembered that the flea inched towards him slowly. Sesshoumaru hated Myoga and with the mood that he had been in he would likely have sliced him in two if he could have reached him...._

* * *

"Mm-my Lord Sesshoumaru, have you _any _warriors with you…any _at all_?" he'd said.

"I have no need for warriors wretch" he growled not bothering to look at the worthless thing.

"But we _cannot_ let your father go there now! He is in no condition to engage an entire army in battle, not even a human one!"

"Then my father needs only to turn away. Let them die." His voice was hard, steady. He fought to keep it so.

Now finally he spoke. _"I must go. I have no choice." _He turned his head toward his son.

"_Then you will not try to stop me_."

Sesshoumaru looked up at his father, but his eyes clouded with memories he'd thought lost. Memories of them. The first he'd allowed himself in an age. He fought them, but they flooded his mind. What did these wastes of air mean to his father? What could their deaths matter to the Lord of the Western Lands? He asked it. Knowing the answer already. The hated need that he had buried, the need found while he was trapped in the house. In those rooms with them.

He would not ask his father this, for he already knew the answer, and he did not want to hear it spoken. Not from his father. They had both found this need there in that place. His father's fulfilled, his only illuminated.

Could _he,_ Sesshoumaru, allow what would fulfill that… need in him to be destroyed? He did not want to know that answer. His hope fell away. His father would not be stayed. His mind would not move beyond this. Its meaning would not form itself inside him. Then, finally he said to him,

"_I will not try to stop you, father, I only ask that you leave me the swords, Tetsuiga and __Sou-unga."_

"_And if I refuse, would you kill me, your own father, Sesshoumaru?"_

He said nothing. Many times had he thought to best his father. Dreamed of it. To draw his blood and claim the ultimate victory, but to slay? To slay him? His father? He fought to remain silent. To remain still.

Then _why_. His father asked why he wanted them. So much came to him, much of it he would not utter to another soul. Why. The days spent watching his father walk among his court, his warriors, his vassals, all unworthy of his notice. Always those swords were with him. They were with him when this Sesshoumaru was not. Always they were with him. This he could not say. He could only answer,

"_The path on which I walk, the one that I have chosen is the way of Power and of Conquest. The might of Tetsuiga and Sou-unga_ _will open the way for me."_

"_Power and Conquest, huh?" _

Was all that his father said in answer.

They stood, silent on top of that hill. The one only miles away from that place, from where the woman, and his "brother" were. The smell of smoke and blood already choking the air around them. Then turning his face toward his son, Inu No Taisho, said to him,

"_Sesshoumaru, do you have anything that you want to protect?"_

Protect? He, protect? There is no one. This foolish act of his father's would find no mirror in him. There was no one. There would never be anyone.

"_No. I, Sesshoumaru, have no need of such." _

This was all that he could say. A lie, but one that he had told himself so often that he could say nothing else. _Would_ say nothing else.

His father stood for only a few moments. Then releasing a deafening roar he transformed himself. His true and terrifying form hovered above him for only seconds before flying away from him. The blood continued to pour from him. He heard only the wind and the faint cries of the flea, still with his father.

* * *

"_Master, please! You cannot go to them now. Please wait here for aid! If you go there now you will not survive! Please return to your home, gather your forces and then return! Please!"_

"_There is no time! I cannot lose her! She must live, Inuyasha must live! I will not lose them!"_

"_But master….. You will die… If you go there you will die!"_

"_It does not matter, I must save them, and I know that I am not long for this world."_

"_Oh master…" _

Was all that he could say. Crying, he held onto him tightly as Inu No Taisho, landed in the forest and ran, brandishing Tetsuiga, towards the burning castle.

* * *

He stood there staring at the waves. He could hear now, as he could before, the battle being fought. The angry roars of his father, the screams of pain and madness of the humans as they tried in vain to fight him. He could smell the blood. Mixing with earth, with dust and rubble. His blood. His father's blood.

Then Sou-unga, fire, blood, more and more blood. A great roar, masking all else around him. Then silence. Only silence.

The woman and hanyo still lived. Still breathed.

His father did not.

He could no longer feel him. He was no longer in this world. The swords were no longer in this world. All of his father, every trace of him, _ALL _of his father was lost to him.

A hand not his own brought down his father.

A sword, that was not his spilled his father's blood. His blood.

How could this be?

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

_**This Spring, This Moon, This Night**_

Chapter 9

Father…_FATHER_!!! He had to come… he had to! She was so hurt. She was bleeding and he didn't know how to stop it. He'd tied cloth around the wound. Tight, just like he'd seen her do before, but it only helped a little.

Why did he do it? Why did he use his sword against her?

That man, that human, Takemaru, he'd always told everyone that he loved his mother. But when he said it his eyes were all wrong. He didn't look like father did when he stared at her, just before he held her hand and whispered stuff to her. Not even close. His eyes whenever they followed his mother looked more like those of the workmen and nobleman that watched after her when she passed them by. He didn't know what it was he saw in their eyes then, but he didn't like it.

He _couldn't_love her, not and do this. Inuyasha, huddled in a corner of the castle, away from the fire, away from the fighting. He had scratches and sword wounds as well, but he was hanyo. He healed a lot faster than his mother, and he was fast enough so that the human couldn't cut deep enough to really hurt him. And he'd hurt Takemaru as well. He'd had to do that to human men before. He still didn't understand what they wanted from him when they trapped him alone somewhere, but he didn't like that either. Their eyes would remind him of the eyes of those men that stared at his mother all the time. He was really glad that he was a _lot _stronger than he looked, and that his claws were _very _sharp. And the blood that came from Takemaru, when he used his claws against him… it made him feel… weird. Good and bad all at the same time.

He had groaned and bled as He staggered out of the room, cursing Inuyasha the whole way. It was the first time that hearing "half-breed bastard" made him feel good. He had hurt Takemaru real bad. And now he was here protecting his mother the best that he could. But she was getting colder and colder. He tried to warm her by putting his arms around her, but it didn't work. And her breath and heart-beat were weak, she wasn't her regular color anymore. She was grey.

He was scared. He couldn't go find herbs for her, not even get her some water now. He was scared to leave her alone, and he still felt safer with her, even like this, than he would by himself.

He tried not to cry, he wouldn't let that bastard or his men see that. So much flew through his mind, he couldn't slow it down. But out of all of it, all he could understand was _where is he_? _Where is he_? Right now he would even accept _him_, his… brother. Just please someone come help. _Someone_.

Then the earth boomed and shook under him, there was a loud crash and a loud loud roar. He'd never heard it before, but he still knew the sound. His father! He started to call out to him, he wanted to see him. He wanted to run and hide behind him, to feel his arms around him. To hide in his arms while he carried he and mother away from here.

But… no. _No_. There was blood, so much blood. Father.... his father's blood. His steps were heavy, tired. He'd never heard this before. His heart, it wasn't booming the way it always did. It was quiet, slow, like his mother's was now . _Please n_o. He ran to the door and looked for him. This scared him. What was wrong? Father.... what is wrong?

"_NO _Inuyasha!" His father roared, "You must go in to your mother and keep her safe, _**GO**_!"

He managed to move until he felt the wall pressing into his back. He saw him. He'd never seen his father fight before, but today he saw. He'd seen him as the big white dog, and he had thought that was scary, but his father now… His face was twisted with rage and _he_ was real scared. One of the big swords that he carried at his side was drawn and it was bigger, way bigger than it was before! big blasts of light came out of it. Every time he swung it big groups of those soldiers fell down, blew away. He couldn't stop watching it. It seemed, it seemed as though it was calling to him. But what he saw, what he saw more than anything else was the blood that poured from his father's arm.

Then his father looked toward the castle again and Inuyasha knew why he was so scared. He ran to his mother. He held her hand. Cold. It was cold.

"Izayoi! _IZAYOI_!"

"No, mother…mother no. No. _NO_!" What, what was that!? It didn't sound like him… Faster, he couldn't… he was breathing faster. His face ached. He tasted blood in his mouth. His fangs tore though his lip. How? Then his eyes burned. They burned. His claws cut into his hands. But he didn't care. Nothing mattered. Just pain. Just anger. Kill. He would kill them. All of them. He remembered the blood that covered his hands when fought against Takemaru. He wanted more. More blood. He'd kill more then. More blood. More death. He couldn't hear anymore over the pounding sound in his ears.

"Inuyasha.."

He couldn't think anymore. He was fading. Someone else trying to control him.

"Inuyasha, _**come here**_."

His father, he could hear him. He tried to mover towards him, but some other part of him wanted him to run outside. To run towards the fighting. To feel blood dripping over his claws. People screaming, begging, dying.

"_**INUYASHA**__!"_

A powerful hand pulled him forward. He started to fight against it, but he wouldn't let it happen fought against the urge to claw and bite. It was his father. The blood and death that were all he could see, went away for a little while. Just long enough for him to reach out to his father.

"Take my hand Inuyasha." He stretched out his hand towards the voice and felt something press into his hand.

"Hold onto to this, Inuyasha. Hold it as tightly as you can."

His heart pounded. His mind began to clear. He could see again. Mother, his father stood with him in front of her. He couldn't believe this, she looked…

"Stand back!" His father shouted, and he took the other sword from his side.

"Tensaiga, show me what I need to see!" and he stared at mother, his eyes moved over her as though he watched something moving. Something he wanted gone. The sword slice the air above them then come down over his mother. It moved in a blur around her and with each slice his mother, she was better. She wasn't gray, then her breathing got stronger. She moved. She stood and walked towards them.

"Dearest…" she began staring up at father, but then she looked down at him. Her eyes suddenly widened and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"Inuyasha?…" she spoke his name so quietly that he barely heard, like there was something she couldn't believe in front of her. It worried him, he didn't want anything else bad to happen. He started to feel normal again, no more burning or voices, just the burns and slashes from before.

"Mother?…" he said, "are your okay? Do you feel okay? I, I thought that…you looked…" But he didn't finish. He watched as his mother stared into his father's face. She paid no attention to burning and fighting surrounding them. She looked into his face for an answer to something. She was scared, really scared. And not about Takemaru, or the fire or the battle going on. She was scared for _him_. But why? What did she see that scared her so? Was it his wounds, 'cause they weren't bad. They still hurt real bad but they were healing.

"Mother, don't worry I'm fine. See they don't even hurt anymore." But she wasn't listening. She still looked at father. And he stared down into her eyes, and even he could understand what he wanted to say. "Now is not the time, do not worry, you _must_ go"

Relief flooded though him as went to hold onto his father. He would take them away. He would make sure that he and mother were safe.

"Go Izayoi, take Inuyasha and go to somewhere that is safe."

What?. Go, without him? But they were alright now. They all were alright. Why couldn't he take them himself, why wouldn't he come away from all of the fire and death with them? Why couldn't they _all_ be safe?

"But, my Lord!" his mother began. "You are hurt…please, you must come away with us, do not stay here, do not…"

"I must be certain that Takemaru, does not follow you. I must make sure that you and my son are safe."

Even as his father said these things, Inuyasha could hear his heart beat getting slower and slower. The smell of his blood kept changing, getting weaker. And there was so much of it. It still poured from him. It wasn't stopping.

His father. His father was going to die.

"I cannot leave you here! You must come with me, with us or I will send Inuyasha to hide and I will remain with you..."

"No, Izayoi. Can't you see that no matter what happens now I will die, but before that I must make sure that you, and Inuyasha will live. I must know that you and he are safe. Please, Izayoi, please take my son and leave this place while you can. While I am still alive to protect you."

His mother was quiet. Still holding on to his father, not wanting to leave, but then looking down at Inuyasha, at their son, and then realizing, knowing that keeping him safe was worth anything. Anything.

Staring out of the door, Inuyasha felt his heart pounding again. He was there, Takemaru. He killed anyone from their house he could find. Women, old men, it didn't matter. Their bodies were spread all over, thrown everywhere like garbage no one had bothered to take away. "I want to help you, father." he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady, to keep his body from shaking. "I don't want you to die. If I can help you please let me. Let me…. Let me use this." He said, holding Tetsuiga in his hand. He didn't even know he was holding it till then. He must have…. This must have been what he felt his father press into his hand. When his eyes were burning. It wasn't big like when his father used it. It just looked old and beat up. But he could still use it.

"No. You must take your mother to a safe place to rest. You must protect her, Inuyasha. Just as I go to protect you, you must now protect her. You must make sure that you both live, for I do not think that she will survive both of us leaving her this night."

She stood, still holding him, still looking at her son. Then slowly she let his sleeve fall from her fingers. She turned and walked to the door, and stood. Not looking behind, not seeing ahead.

Then his father, reached out for the sword.

"Perhaps _someday_ you will be strong enough to wield this my son."

But instead of taking it he rested his hand on his head, then smiled, "Hmm, I've always wondered what you will look like as a man with those ears." Then he sheathed, Tetsuiga and turned to his mother. Inuyasha couldn't look at them, he didn't want to see what they looked like now. Too sad. It was too sad.

When he heard his mother call his name he walked toward the door. Neither wanted to go through it. But the spreading fire, the smoke and finally the screams and cries of the advancing army forced them to move. They ran into the forest. Inuyasha grabbed his mother's hand and led her deep into the woods. Farther than any humans had gone in many years. There had been demons and other things that claimed the forest years ago, but they'd all run away when his father and other powerful youkai traveled through it.

He pulled her along until he was sure that no one would follow them. That was when he finally turned to look back. The ground shook, even as far away as they'd gone he could feel it. His father's roars split the air. And as he watched he saw, and felt Sou-unga. The sword his father wore on his back. The one he never allowed, Inuyasha, to look at much less touch. The red dragon, the one that lived inside Sou-unga, rose and curled slowly into the sky. His father was just below it. He heard him roar its name. There was horrible rumbling and a flash so bright it blinded him. But he didn't blink. He searched. He search every sound, every sight, every smell.

He could not find him.

His father. His father was gone.

All he could smell was blood and fire and death.

Takemaru was dead. But his father had died killing him and his army. He finally sat beside his mother, his head dropping onto her shoulder. He searched his senses one last time, just one. And he did smell one familiar thing.

Sesshoumaru.

He found Sesshoumaru.

* * *

The snow was blinding now, though it did not cover the blood soaked ground where his father had stood. It did not erase the smell of smoke and death.

Did not wipe out the fact that his father was no more.

But he stood there, his face as serene, as beautiful as it ever was. His limbs still. But he saw nothing, heard nothing. Could not have moved from this spot if he had tried. He was lost in that fog of white. Snow and churning sea and over-cast sky. There was only one thing that he could sense. One thing that anchored him to this earth. He could smell him.

The hanyo,

the bastard,

the disgrace.

Inuyasha. There was Inuyasha.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi everyone, I hope you guys enjoyed this latest upload!

And I was hoping that someone could drop me a line about the earlier chapters of the story. I just read that after 60 days they're removed if they aren't edited, and they're not in my document manager anymore, even though they're everywhere else. So I just wanted to know if you guys can get to chapters 1-7 or if I need to re-upload and re-post them. Thanks a lot in advance!

And chapter 11 (actually _10_ not counting this note) should be going up soon....I hope!


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